


After the Battles

by republic



Category: The Homecoming of Beorhtnoth Beorhthelm’s Son - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: AU - Blade Runner, AU - Firefly / Serenity, AU - Lord of the Rings, Gen, Historical AU - Crimean War, Historical AU - World War 1, Ofermod
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-16
Updated: 2017-12-16
Packaged: 2019-02-15 13:59:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,483
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13032630
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/republic/pseuds/republic
Summary: By one man's will many must woe endure.- Wiglaf





	After the Battles

**Author's Note:**

  * For [amyfortuna](https://archiveofourown.org/users/amyfortuna/gifts).



#### Osgiliath

_There is a pervasive gloom, and weak shadows flit across the stage. Enter separately two soldiers of Gondor, **TÍDWALD** and **TORHTHELM**. _

**TORHTHELM:** Who goes there? Art thou man of Gondor?

 **TÍDWALD:** Totta! I can recognise you, even in this gloom!

 **TORHTHELM:** Tída! I'm glad to see you. It's grim searching through the dead in the remnants of once-fair Osgiliath. At times it feels like the Black Captain is plucking at my heart!

 **TÍDWALD:** He will not cross the Anduin for a while yet. He drives his slaves before him, though, and they slew our captain near here, I'm sure of it.

_**TÍDWALD** sets a dark lantern on the ground, and unshrouds it a little; the light shows the ground strewn with bodies: orcs, Haradrim, and Gondorians._

_A dark shape flits through the light beam. A fell screeching is heard in the distance. **TORHTHELM** falls back in fear, and kicks the lantern over, plunging the stage into darkness once more._

**TORHTHELM:** Save us! A Nazgûl is come!

_**TÍDWALD** recovers the lantern and there is some light once more. He is obviously rattled, but tries to cover this._

**TÍDWALD:** Calm yourself! The Black Captain is not yet come — he remains far off, though the reach of his fear is long. We have work to do if we are to find Beorhtnoth before Lord Faramir bids us retreat back to the Causeway Forts. For surely we cannot hold the fords of Anduin much longer against so great a host. And what a price we have paid for holding them this long!

_The fell screeching of the Lord of the Nazgûl is heard once more. Blackout._

* * *

#### Balaclava

_The stage is dark, aside from the light of a shaded lantern; its feeble light illuminates scattered corpses of men and horses. Two British stretcher-bearers, **TÍDWALD** and **TORHTHELM** are searching among the dead._

_An owl hoots._

**TÍDWALD:** It's just an owl! After what these men faced today, you can stand the hooting of an owl.

 **TORHTHELM:** It's an ill omen, I tell you. But I'm not afraid of owls. And I'm not the only man who'd find it grim work picking through so many mangled dead in this darkness. There are plenty of Russians on the heights, too. Besides, we might search all night and not find Captain Beorhtnoth.

 **TÍDWALD:** Look, here are some more men of the 17th Lancers. I'll warrant the Captain fell somewhere nearby. Give me a hand here. Look, we know this one, it's Douglas.

 **TORHTHELM:** The Corporal? He was a fine soldier, and a good horseman.

 **TÍDWALD:** No, the Private.

 **TORHTHELM:** Geoff? He was just a lad! I can't imagine someone younger than myself dead like this. He had his whole life ahead of him.

 **TÍDWALD:** Look, here, it's the Sergeant.

 **TORHTHELM:** A brave man, with a swift horse. He's sure to have been riding close to the Captain.

 **TÍDWALD:** Well, he must be nearby, then. Help me move these bodies; treat them decently, they deserve respect.

 **TORHTHELM:** Not like the Heavy Brigade! I hear Lucan saw how fierce the Russian fire was on the Light Brigade and decided not to risk it. Our lads might have at least held the battery if they'd had some support when they got there, rather than having to ride back down that hellish valley under fire!

 **TÍDWALD:** Somewhere lying back there is Nolan — he carried the order to the Light Brigade, and was killed by a Russian shell for his pains. He was meant to be a great expert on cavalry tactics. Goodness knows what he thought this charge would achieve. The Light Brigade must have known it was madness!

 **TORHTHELM:** But they charged down into this valley anyway! I can't imagine what that must have been like — the noise of the guns, the galloping of the horses, the cries of the men. All very gallant, wouldn't you say?

 **TÍDWALD:** Oh, surely, the poets will have a field day. And the men I heard who lived to make it back to our lines were oddly elated, but also angry. And many many fine men now lie dead around us; what good did their bravery do them? And all their horses, too!

 **TORHTHELM:** Look, this is one of the Russians. What a brute! Even dead, I don't want him looking at me. Point the lantern somewhere else!

 **TÍDWALD:** He's the enemy all right, but he'll do you no more harm now. And I'll warrant he fought bravely too — would you like to face a cavalry charge?

 **TORHTHELM:** Over here! There's a tall one, and see, he has epaulettes...

* * *

#### Tannhäuser Gate

_Two Replicants, **T-ÍDWALD** & **T-0RHTHELM**. C-beams glitter overhead._

**T-ÍDWALD:** As I thought, this is Captain Beorhtnoth. Bow your head.

_A brief silence._

**T-ÍDWALD:** Here he is, then, or what's left of him.

 **T-0RTHELM:** [ _giving a benediction_ ] Here lies Beorthnoth, Captain of the Commonwealth.  
He treated men well, be they replicant or basic;  
he was calm in a crisis, and a decisive leader.  
His life is wasted, and we shall not see his like again.

 **T-ÍDWALD:** Fine words, T-0tta. But come, we have work to do.

 **T-0RTHELM:** Look! Here it is, his golden Lassiter 10k.

 **T-ÍDWALD:** A rare weapon indeed! I'm surprised it survived the battle.  
See how badly damaged his combat suit is — the helmet (and his head) are entirely destroyed.

_A sudden flash of hard light._

**T-0RTHELM:** Look! The main attack fleet is burning, off the shoulder of Orion. What a waste this warfare is. Even now, here we are fetching Beorthnoth's body for burial, in so much hard radiation that we'd not live long, even if we weren't replicants.

 **T-ÍDWALD:** Well, we are what we are. We see things that few of the basic humans will see, and those memories will die with us. It seems warfare never changes — folk die, and someone has to come along and clear up the mess. Now help me carry his body!

 **T-0RTHELM:** He's a heavy burden, Captain Beorthnoth! Maybe they'll bury him, like they did in days of old — priests in black, and incense, and chanting in Latin. I have such strong memories of the old Requiem Masses. Well, I think I do; maybe they're implants. But still, such a lovely way to lay the dead to rest. Real poetry.

 **T-ÍDWALD:** You're a fine dreamer, T-0tta! You know we don't hold with any of that superstitious nonsense any more. No chanted prayers nor men in odd vestments chanting words we've forgotten the meanings of. They'll bury him decently, as he's a basic human with a rich family, but no comforting fictions nor illusions of a happily ever after. Carry his remains away, and let his family remember him. Keep going!

 **T-0RTHELM:** My suit's servos are damaged, and the body's heavy. I need to rest a while, T-ída.

 **T-ÍDWALD:** Come on, this is no place to hang around! The drop-ship's not far now, so keep step with me and we'll soon be there.

_**T-0RTHELM** stops suddenly_

**T-ÍDWALD:** You stumbling dolt, look where you're going!

_A laser-beam flashes brightly, then blackout._

* * *

#### Serenity Valley

_Two Browncoats, **TÍDWALD** and **TORHTHELM**._

**TORHTHELM:** Get down! Look, over there!

 **TÍDWALD:** Where?

 **TORHTHELM:** By those rocks. See, shapes moving in the dark. Reavers! See how they move together in the darkness, not even trying to take cover. Reavers!

 **TÍDWALD:** I can't see anything much in this darkness. You've better eyes than me.

 **TORHTHELM:** Listen, then! Hear their foul noises. They're coming closer!

 **TÍDWALD:** Yes, I hear it now. Get down!

_They take cover, and draw their weapons, which whine as they are cocked._

_Noises off, getting closer._

**TÍDWALD:** [ _calling out_ ] You there! If you wanted the battle, you're a bit late. But we've slugs left for you if you want them. [ _He shoots upwards._ ] You'll get nothing else here!

_Several shots are fired. A bullet ricochets off the ground near **TORHTHELM**._

**TORHTHELM:** Gorram it! [ _He aims, and shoots. A scream from off-stage._ ] I got one, Tída! That Reaver won't be terrorising anyone else!

 **TÍDWALD:** [ _Amused_ ] Bagged a Reaver, did you? They're not so easily frightened. Those were some poor sods looking for a few credits from the dead. No need to have killed them. Save your bullets for the Alliance!

 **TORHTHELM:** The Alliance! Let's get out of here before those  喝畜生雜交的髒貨 come back!

 **TÍDWALD:** They won't be back this way. They know they've won here and that we're not getting any backup from off-planet. The only folk you'll find here are a few of us browncoats, and more of these Hera-dwellers trying to keep themselves alive. They didn't ask for this battle, so I can't begrudge them a bit of looting.

 **TORHTHELM:** Let's get moving! This is no place to linger, another charnel-house littered with corpses. Seems like the entire 'verse's going to shit these days, this  愚笨的 war's leaving thousands of bodies for the Reavers to pick over. Look, over there! Another one of these thieves! [ _Raises his gun._ ]

 **TÍDWALD:** Leave them alone! We'll just get even more lost, and they're no threat to us. Come on, lift your end up again, and let's get moving! [ _Exeunt._ ]

* * *

#### The Somme

_Two stretcher-bearers, **TÍDWALD** and **TORHTHELM**._

**TORHTHELM:** Can you find it, Tída? I'm all turned around, and I can't see our wagon in the dark. We can't risk a lantern in case there are still snipers around, truce or no.

_A pause; they shuffle onwards in silence._

**TORHTHELM:** Be careful! There's running water nearby — if you trip down the bank into the Ancre, we'll both be swept away.

 **TÍDWALD:** This must be near where we left the wagon, then. Carry him a bit further, then the first stage's over with. [ _They walk a little further._ ] Right, let's put him down — here's the wagon. I wish we were back at HQ already, so padre could say his few words, and then we could toast Beorhtnoth's memory. He was always generous with drinks when we were on leave! Let's have a breather.

 **TORHTHELM:** [ _After a pause._ ] I don't understand. The original plan had been we'd only attack once the defences were largely taken care of, but that never happened. Instead Captain Beorhtnoth took us over the top towards what must have been the most fortified bit of Fricourt.

 **TÍDWALD:** You're right, that had been the plan. But orders came down for us to attack anyway, and the Captain was too proud to say no, though he must have seen that the barbed wire hadn't even been cut through. So the lads went over the top, and the Germans shot us from both sides. I dare say Beorthnoth'll get a posthumous VC for his actions today, though that won't be much compensation for hanging from barbed wire being shot to pieces. What a waste! He should have had us hold back until we stood a chance of achieving something.

 **TORHTHELM:** Thus passes one of the few experienced Captains of our Division, though I fear he's far from the only one today. And the war doesn't seem to be going anywhere!

 **TÍDWALD:** Yeah, and it's lads like us that'll get it in the neck as it drags on! " Over by Christmas," my arse. Politicians and generals talk of courage, but it's Tommy Atkins who ends up at the wrong end of the guns. "Dulce et decorum est" to send someone else to die.

 **TORHTHELM:** Come on, it's not all bad! We might not be going anywhere very fast, but neither is Jerry; and we've the best navy in the world, too. We'll come out of this on top, you'll see.

 **TÍDWALD:** I hope you're right! Now come on, give me a hand lifting him onto the cart. That's it, now heave! Cover him with that blanket?

 **TORHTHELM:** Doesn't seem right, somehow, covering him with this mucky old thing.

 **TÍDWALD:** It'll have to do for now — no sense chewing the fat over it. They'll find something better for him back at HQ, where we should have been hours ago! You ride on the cart, I'll mind the horses. [ _Cracks a whip._ ]

_The cart creaks and squeaks, and squelches through the mud._

**TORHTHELM:** Is it far? I'm shattered, and I'm sure every Kraut for miles around must know where we are with all this noise! [ _A pause._ ] Tída? Tída? 

**TÍDWALD:** Oh, put a sock in it! I'm tired, and it's still a fair way back to HQ, as you ought to know. I'd get some kip if I were you — not like Beorthnoth's going to object any more! You'll feel better for some sleep, and the horses will do the work for now.

_Nothing is said for some time; the cart continues its noisy progress. **TORHTHELM** is dreaming, and speaks drowsily; faint lights flicker on, and then gutter out._

**TORHTHELM:** I see candles lit, a cantor chanting the Captain's memorial. And then so many more anthems for these doomed youths. Time passes, and this generation passes with it. Everywhere, I see the headstones, " A soldier of the Great War, known unto God". We are remembered, but our purpose is forgotten. The lamps are going out all over Europe, and it is dark!

 **TORHTHELM:** [ _Louder, but still dreaming._ ] It is dark! They bring candles, and a guard of honour for one they do not know. All the pomp and circumstance they bring for an unknown man. One they will bury amongst the kings; the rest lie dumped in fields — they will carve their names on the gate-posts, their intolerably nameless names. A great sepulchre of crime!

_A bump of the cart, and **TORHTHELM** wakes with a cry._

**TORHTHELM:** Shit! What was that? I think I was asleep...

 **TÍDWALD:** A rude awakening, huh? You were dreaming for sure, and they were odd dreams, full of death and grief. It's dark all right, and cold for a June night in France. Not much further now...

_The noise of the cart fades away. A few moments of darkness and absolute silence. Then voices are heard singing, faintly at first, then becoming clearer. They sing from the War Requiem, by Benjamin Britten._

_A single spotlight illuminates a tattered wreath of poppies. During the singing, **TÍDWALD** , an old man in smart uniform, enters and lays a single white poppy on the wreath, then stands motionless._

**CHOIR:** One ever hangs where shelled roads part.  
In this war He too lost a limb,  
But His disciples hide apart;  
And now the Soldiers bear with Him.

Agnus Dei,  
qui tollis peccata mundi,  
dona eis requiem.

Near Golgotha strolls many a priest,  
And in their faces there is pride  
That they were flesh-marked by the Beast  
By whom the gentle Christ's denied. 

Agnus Dei,  
qui tollis peccata mundi,  
dona eis requiem.

The scribes on all the people shove  
And bawl allegiance to the state,  
But they who love the greater love  
Lay down their life; they do not hate. 

Agnus Dei,  
qui tollis peccata mundi,  
dona eis requiem sempiternam.

Dona nobis pacem.

_Fade to blackout._

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Yuletide! Tolkien's comments in the afterword about heroism down the ages got me thinking about how heroes often seem to leave a lot of wreckage in their wake. The idea for this ficlet came from that, Tolkien's comment about Balaclava, and a sense of timelessness in Tída and Totta's reflections on war and courage. I wanted a Middle-Earth cross-over since you asked for one, and Faramir's pointless attempt to hold the fords of the Anduin in Osgiliath struck me as the natural choice; then I had to have the Charge of the Light Brigade, and settings for the other sections seemed to arise as I began to think about the structure of the _Homecoming_.
> 
> I hope you like it, and sorry for the lack of poetry (other than quotation). You really don't want me to write poetry!
> 
> Thanks to [the Firefly-Serenity Chinese Pinyinary](http://fireflychinese.kevinsullivansite.net/index.html) for the Mandarin invective. Thanks also to my Betas - atreic, nomeancity, Shadowlover, and teithiwr.


End file.
